Title: Vexed & Glorious

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Regina/Emma

Disclaimer: These characters are not my creative property

Summary: There's so many ways to say 'I'm effing sorry.' Post episode 2x12, morning.

A/N: Thank you Scribb1es!

"I wake up late, blame you for fate
Vexed and glorious as ever
I want you here. Blame you, my dear" ~Kenna's "Vexed & Glorious"

…..

Emma clutched the large bouquet of white flowers a bit tighter as she slowly made her way up Regina's walk. Snow had sent one of her bluebirds all around town looking for Regina, and the weary bird had returned chirping in Snow's ear with word that Regina had returned home in the early dawn.

The morning air was cool; a thin sheen of frost was layered paper thin across the lawn and in the heavy, winter-dead bushes. She shuddered involuntarily, wincing in remembrance of the force with which Regina had tossed her like a ragdoll down on the cement she was standing on. The huge purple bruise on her ass was still quite tender.

Cora watched through the glass pane of the foyer window as the blonde shuffled up the walk. Her eyes shifted toward the stairway, and she listened for any sign that Regina was awake. Hearing nothing, but the quiet of the large house, Cora surrounded herself in a mist of purple, and morphed into her daughter's form to take care of the pest at who was now knocking at the door.

Emma knocked on the door, her palms clammy despite the cold. The door opened almost immediately as if she was anticipated, though just a crack.

"Regina, look I just wanted to say I'm sor—" Emma tried to peek around the corner, catching just the angry twitch of an eyebrow and the unreadable glare of a rich brown eye.

"Save it! I do not wish to hear from you," Regina flung the door open wide, her arms braced in front of her body. She stepped out onto the stoop with a sharp clack. Emma stepped back instinctually, her arm flying up to present the bouquet of flowers. Flowers probably weren't enough to say sorry for wrongly accusing someone of murder. At least, for Mary Margaret they threw a party… with cake. Although, she now knew Regina wasn't really all that into cake.

With a well-timed flick of a finger the flowers wilted before Emma's eyes, turning brown and crinkling as they shriveled up. Emma gulped. She figured this would be difficult, but now she was afraid, and she should have worn padding. Her ass couldn't handle another aerial sprawl.

"I do not want your weak apology or your love anymore. I am through with you, Emma," Regina held her head high and crossed her arms.

Something was off… Love? Emma thought in confusion. She knew for sure there was a certain something that lived inside the cracks of their mutual anger, but love? Far from it. Emma furrowed her brow and licked her lips, carefully contemplating her next move.

"Please just hear me out. I know you were framed for Archie's murder… framed by Cora," Emma watched closely and was reward with a nearly imperceptible flinch.

"Keep your voice down," Regina sputtered, stepping closer still. She knocked the dead flowers from Emma's hand with a forceful slap.

"I know you think we had something, but I assure you our days of being a happy family are long over. I will be coming to collect Henry… to take back what is mine, and you better not even think of running, dear. I will find the boy and you too."

Emma blinked in disbelief. Regina would never refer to Henry as 'the boy'. It was hard to believe the deception, but this was Cora. Cora only knew Emma and Regina's relationship as "complicated" and that they share a son, of course she believed they were lovers.

"Regina, I love you," Emma did her best not to choke on the words, but found they formed on her tongue far easier than she was really comfortable with. She waited in anxious anticipation for 'Regina's' response.

"Love is not enough. Love means nothing to me," Regina's eyes narrowed and she paused to stare Emma down. Definitely, Cora….

"Let me in and we can talk this through," Emma let her voice rise in pitch, she wanted to sound desperate and pleading.

"No, this is conversation is over. Get out of my courtyard before I remove you with force."

Emma saw Cora's fingers twitch as if she was contemplating trying for her heart again. "Okay, fine. You win, I'm going… for now."

As soon as the door had latched Emma eyed the second floor balcony. Despite her exhaustion from being up all night at the hospital, she quickly worked out a way to scale the house. She had climbed a goddamned beanstalk; she could for sure take on an oak tree and some aluminum siding.

In a matter of minutes she was crouched outside Regina's bedroom window, and peering in. The sight she saw was heartbreaking. Regina was in bed; her knees tucked up and covered by a blanket. She was holding something square and pink and staring mournfully at it. Even from the distance Emma could see she was crying. Regina's head moved toward the door, and Emma's eyes followed the movement. Cora entered and sat on the edge of the bed. She stroked Regina's cheek, brushing away the tears and murmured words that only seemed to make Regina sadder.

Cora left and Emma waited a few minutes to make sure she didn't return. Regina just went back to staring at whatever she was holding, fresh tears spilling down her reddened cheeks. Damn, Emma really wished Cora hadn't ruined those flowers. Emma took a deep breath and knocked softly on the French doors. Regina's head snapped up at the intrusive noise. She pulled back the blanket and swung over the edge of the bed, and froze when she spotted Emma.

Emma smiled apologetically and mouthed a meek 'hi', giving a little wave. Regina turned her head away and wiped her cheeks, before mustering a scowl and crossing over to open the door.

"What are you doing here?" Regina whispered in the stern way only she seemed to be capable of.

Emma stood up and gingerly stepped onto the plush carpet when Regina opened the door in guarded invitation.

"I came to apologize about Archie and the whole, you know, murder thing. I shouldn't have doubted you it was just all the evidence and the magic and what Pongo saw-," Emma stopped mid-apology. Regina's face had crumpled into tears; a sob silently wracked her body. "Hey, Regina…I'm so sorry. Don't cry…"

Emma had been prepared for anger, for refusal, for everything Cora had given her downstairs and then some, but this…vulnerability- she didn't know how to cope. Regina waved her hand listlessly, and hitched up the skirt of her baby blue satin nightgown as she turned wordlessly and made her way back to bed. Emma watched with raised eyebrows as she crawled in and picked up the pink thing again.

Emma hovered near the edge of the bed in discomfort. Regina seemed to be ignoring her, and was once again engrossed with the mysterious thingy she was holding. Emma sulked around the edge of the bed to see what was so sad and fascinating. "For Mommy" she saw the hand print and read the Henry's painted scrawl, and almost burst into tears herself.

"I just want my son back," Regina half-choked out and half-exhaled the sentence in one long unbroken drawl.

"It's okay. He wants to see you too. It's just a lot has happened, and by the way, what is your mom doing here?" Emma gave up, her voice cracked and she let herself crash down on the edge of the bed remembering all too late the delicate condition of her tender ass, "Ow!"

Regina focused in on her, immediate concern in her eyes, "What?"

"Oh nothing, you kinda threw me across your lawn… just a bit sore. Although, now I know I deserved it," Emma winced as the flash of pain spread and dissipated through her hip.

The tiniest hint of a smirk brushed over Regina's lips and she moved over in bed and nodded once, "take off your boots, dear."

"Are you inviting me into your bed? Because your mom seems to think that… we're like Ellen and Portia- in love and… married. That's probably my fault too…" Emma was careful not to make any sudden movements as she pulled off her boots and brought her legs up in bed next to Regina.

The sullen woman licked her lips, and began to speak, her voice sounding hoarse and pained, "Henry made this for me last year, just before you came into his life. It seems like a lifetime ago."

"He loves you…he really does," Emma bit her lip and chanced running her finger over the glazed handprint in the plaster.

"He doesn't need me anymore. He has you now. I was just a place holder, and now instead of my son, all I have is a handprint," Regina placed the plaster mold on the nightstand as if she could no longer bear to look at it. She pulled the covers up, and sunk down in bed turning onto her side, facing away from Emma.

Emma looked at the ceiling, and drew in a shaky breath. She pushed sock covered feet under the corner of the blanket and wiggled her way down under the blankets. She let her hands reach blindly until met the solid warmth of Regina's back. She ran her hands up and down in what she hoped was a gesture of comfort, and when she met no resistance, she pressed herself closer wrapping her arms Regina's body fully, and pressing her chin above Regina's hunched shoulder.

"I promise you that he sees you've changed, and I don't know how Cora and that one-handed creeper got here, but they are not staying, even if I have to find a wraith to drag their asses back through that portal," she felt Regina relax a tiny bit, and heard a soft shuddering sigh escape her lips.

"My mother loves me. She's the only one," Regina whimpered resolutely, as Emma felt Regina tug her hands gently signaling to hold her tighter. She obliged, enjoying the closeness and warmth and the faint pleasantness of lulling magic that pulsed through them when they touched.

"I won't comment on what a mother's love should be, but Regina…do you really believe that?"

Regina turned over abruptly, disrupting the calm and stillness that they had cultivated. She faced Emma, their noses brushing they were so close. Emma felt Regina swallow down a rush of sadness, "I don't…we've always had a rather…difficult relationship."

"This is your chance to be better…you don't need to swallow her lies," Emma clamped her mouth shut when she saw Regina's pain so visceral, raw, and conflicted. She could feel it so deeply in her own heart it made her gasp. Her legs twitched and brushed against Regina's bare knees, as the brunette's hand flew up from under the covers and smoothed away the strands of hair that had fallen over green eyes.

"I'm trying…" Regina's voice was so small that Emma could barely hear even with her lips so close. Too close. Emma wanted to swallow the pain, and take it inside herself. She leaned forward and captured soft lips in a delicate kiss. Regina let it happen pouring out the pain and then deepening the kiss. Emma made promises she intended to keep with her breath, lips and tongue. She felt a strong sense of gratitude, and finally as they embraced tighter and touched each other alighting nerve endings to tingle with grief-fed arousal and the silken touch of their mingling magic: forgiveness.